Whaddaya know — I found a weather window and drove right through it. Raton Pass was dry as the proverbial popcorn fart and the snow didn’t start falling until just outside Santa Fe, when the fuel light blinked on a few miles earlier than usual thanks to a stiff headwind.
The food and service at La Choza was undistinguished once again, which is a shame. It used to be the cheaper, easier little sister of The Shed, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to start cuddling up to the higher-priced spread on the Plaza.
Happily, the IPA at Second Street Brewing was excellent as always, as was the cream stout. It was open mic’ night, and there was a kid’s birthday party going on right next to me, but the right beer takes the edge off that sort of thing.
It was interesting to watch as nearly everyone who walked into the brewpub instantly checked their smartphones to see if they’d missed anything in the handful of minutes they’d been untethered from the Giant Electronic Titty (this from a guy who just sent an iPhone pic to his PowerBook).
There won’t be any riding here tomorrow. The place has mud season and snow season going on simultaneously, and I didn’t bring a power washer with me. Maybe I’ll just grab a breakfast burrito at Tia Sophia, enjoy a leisurely soak at Ten Thousand Waves and then beat it for sunnier country — either Las Cruces or all the way to Tucson. I want tan lines, not brown stripes.
Mad Blog Media 
If you stop in TorC for petrol, grab me a photo. I lived there in the early 70s. Man, I envy your chance for some good, border-style Mexican food! 🙂
Funny but when I think about this part of the country, I think about the beauty of the scenery. The high desert, mountains, big skies. But whenever my east coast family comes to visit, they always talk about the damn wind. It does seem to have a personality all of its own.
Road trip! Bike tour! IPA and stout! STOP…you’re killin’ me!
Here just north of Santa Fe we woke to 4 inches of the white stuff yesterday morning. I hit the road to sunny Tucson myself by morning light tomorrow. Couple errands in ABQ then to Phoenix to snag a night’s sleep on my son’s couch. The least he can do since I gave BIRTH to the guy!! Maybe see you in Tucson. I think your group leaves on two wheels the same day we do. Don’t forget the Velvet Elvis in Patagonia! I won’t be there this trip and will miss the food.
Bruce, sorry I missed shooting TorC for you; hope the shot of El Sombrero in Socorro makes up for it.
Steve, you should’ve seen the wind down here today. It was a tailwind, mostly, and I think I made it from Santa Fe to Las Cruces on a gallon of gas. It was that strong.
Chris, you ol’ sumbitch. You live in Sonoma County … don’t come sniveling to me about cycling and alcohol.
And MD … which trip are you doing again? Some thousand-mile monster that makes my little jaunt look like a ride down to the 7-Eleven for a pack of smokes and some Twinkies? Look for the baldheaded fat bastard in the red-and-black Mad Dog Media kit, riding a bike from the previous millennium. Shouldn’t be more than one between Tucson and Patagonia.
I’ll make a point of visiting the Velvet Elvis … too many folks have insisted I do so, and when the universe speaks, a man must listen.